


Bedsheets to Roses

by Wooshin_stan



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, I can't remember the last time I actually wrote something sad, M/M, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9944612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wooshin_stan/pseuds/Wooshin_stan
Summary: Once, they lived happily.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for not updating anything for so long. So here you have a bit of Meanie angst. And no, this is in no way something that I write so I wouldn't feel bad about not updating the stories I promised to update ages ago. Of course not.  
> And the summary is lame. I know

Their fights never really lasted for a long time. Once Mingyu became too stubborn to even acknowledge his mistake, the fight was over. Wonwoo never really minded, he was too quiet to try and talk to Mingyu anyway. But all those unresolved problems had to bubble up in some way. Except none of them thought it'd be like this.

-

Almost a month had gone past since he'd last seen Wonwoo, the man he came to love so much. His beautiful husband. And even after two years of marriage, they still probably couldn't trust each other.

It all started about two to three months ago. As more and more of his colleagues fell sick, Mingyu, being the only apparently immune person in their department, had three times more work than he should have. The hours he spent locked up in his office were ruthless, his free time was cut below zero and so was the time he could spend with Wonwoo. He tried, he tried so hard to be there for the man, but with every passing day, he came home later, more tired, unable to do anything else but fall to the nearest at least slightly comfortable surface and fall asleep. And Wonwoo hated it. He hated not having his husband with him, he hated the rushed phone calls so that he could hear Mingyu's voice at least once a day, he hated the empty feeling of the apartment when the younger was gone and he hated falling asleep alone to wake up to see that Mingyu didn't even sleep next to him for the whole night. 

The next blow came when Mingyu didn't even bother with the phone calls anymore, barely responded to the texts, practically lived at his workplace, only coming home on the weekends to spend the two days sleeping off what he couldn't during the week. And even when one of his colleagues finally returned, the work he had to do was still too much to handle. He still came late, still didn't get as much sleep as he should have, still didn't have a few hours to spend with Wonwoo, to make his baby feel loved again, to satisfy the desperate needs he himself felt. And Wonwoo tried not to think about it. But it was natural to start assuming things, wasn't it? The worst thing was, that his thoughts, doubts and worries were confirmed, or at least it seemed so. 

Bit by bit, he was losing his mind, drifting more and more towards the screaming pain, towards the heart-tearing thought of Mingyu not loving him anymore. And it started.

The week when their office was finally back in tact, all of the workers back, Mingyu thought it would be okay again. But they still had too much work to catch up on. And even though he didn't come back that late, it was still a bit too late. 

The final blow for Wonwoo came on a night that Mingyu's colleague fainted from exhaustion, he being the one who brought the poor woman to lie on a couch to rest. Mingyu never thought that someone could actually assume that their partner was cheating just from smelling a different, foreign perfume on their clothes. And apparently, that was wrong.

Wonwoo didn't take long to ask the damned question. And with a 'Are you cheating on me?' came their fatal fight. With shouts and screams and tears streaming down their faces, with choked up words, at the end of the night, the door of their appartment was slammed shut and Wonwoo was left crying in their bedroom as Mingyu stormed out of the apartment building, out into the cold winter streets.

-

It finally made its grand appearance just hours after their fight. The tightness in his chest, how breathing suddenly seemed harder, how his lungs felt like they were ripped apart from the inside. And it hurt. 

It didn't take long for his body to collapse in agony as his throat got blocked completely, his skin ripped by thorns. Wonwoo loved roses. People called them plain and too much of a stereotype. Not original, apparently. Yet Wonwoo couldn't help but still admire the beauty in them. But now, all he could feel for them was hatred as more and more bloodied petals forced their way out of his mouth, even though he wasn't even breathing anymore.

As his glossy eyes stared into nothingness, he couldn't think anymore. His brain was clouded, his whole body burning desperately, aching for air he was no longer able to get. Last tears slid down his cheeks, but Wonwoo couldn't feel their warmth. He lay still, no longer capable of anything. 

The last thing he remembered seeing was Mingyu. His sweet, beloved Mingyu. Now that Wonwoo couldn't think anymore, he understood. He finally knew just how stupid it was to think Mingyu wouldn't love him, that the boy would cheat on him... Mingyu wasn't like that. But even knowing couldn't help anymore. 

The tiny string of life he was desperately holding onto snapped and Wonwoo fell into the black abyss he believed to be death. Then, everything was gone.

-

"I can't believe he thought that!"

"It's only natural, Gyu. You'd think the same." Minghao really pissed him off sometimes.

"Like hell I would."

"Yeah? Imagine, Wonwoo starts coming late, some nights he doesn't come home at all. He no longer spends time with you or even talks to you and when he finally comes home at a reasonable hour, he smells with some chick's perfume. Are you sure you wouldn't assume anything?"

"I'm sure. I'd trust him..."

Minghao couldn't even remember how many times he rolled his eyes that night.

"Would you really?"

And as much as Mingyu wanted to tell him that he would, that he'd definitely trust Wonwoo... he himself knew the answer.

_No, I wouldn't._

Minghao knew it too.

In less than five minutes, Mingyu was on his way home, preparing a worthy apology for his lover.

-

When Mingyu entered their apartment, only then did he notice the dinner Wonwoo set up earlier in their kitchen. He didn't even bother to look at it earlier. It was his favourite.

Mingyu's favourite movie was prepared to play too and he could smell the sweet scent of the vanilla candles they both adored a bit too much. The grand finale came when he stepped into the bedroom. The room was decorated with bright red roses, the bed absolutely covered in red and in the middle of it lay his beautiful Wonwoo. And what a nice night could've that been, if only there wasn't the unmistakable smell of copper in the air, if only Wonwoo's body wasn't absent of life. If only all the red that decorated their bedroom wasn't Wonwoo's own blood.

On that fine evening, Mingyu's tears and screams mixed with vanilla blood.


End file.
